


Uchiha Exclusive Fanclub

by Nanimok



Category: Naruto
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Relationship tags are the characters' wishful thinking, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 04:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8734672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanimok/pseuds/Nanimok
Summary: Madara and Izuna finds that they've got more in common that they originally thought.  AU in which Izuna lives.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Red_Hot_Holly_Berries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Hot_Holly_Berries/gifts).



> For redhothollyberries and her hilarious Izuna/Tobirama/Tōka commentary on tumblr.

“What the hell are you doing, Izuna?”

Izuna lets out an indignant yelp, stopping what suspiciously looked like a speech rehearsal, – but couldn’t be because preparing implies Izuna being responsible and Izuna doesn’t _do_ responsibility – and whirls to face his brother. He flails, and Madara likens this dance to a panicked chicken, before clearing his throat, and beams at him. “Brother! Uh, hello. Fancy seeing you here on this bright sunny day...”

His suspicions flare instantly.

Usually, Madara doesn’t concern himself with whatever Izuna chooses to spend his free time doing since it regularly entails something along the lines of ghosting Senju Tōka –  he’ll never forget, nor forgive, the hours spent listening to Izuna wax poetry about the ‘ethereal curvature’ of Senju Tōka’s abdominals – but today is different. Today, he finds his little brother perching on a branch, and looking at him with a smile so pure, the most innocent of babies would struggle to replicate it.

Madara raises an eyebrow. Izuna trying to be inconspicuous is like Hashirama trying to be quiet. It’s disturbing and unnatural _._

“If you’re thinking of doing something reckless, stupid, and, or, dangerous _,_ forget it.” Madara warns as he shifts the scrolls in his arms and adjusts the leather strapping his gunbai to his back. “Remember that none of the healers are willing to heal you if your hurt yourself.”

Izuna sputters. “Well – I, _never_ – I don’t deserve this _slander_ from my own brother. When have I ever done something reckless, stupid, and, or, dangerous?”

Madara gives him the stare. The same stare that’s been backed up by hours of listening to their dignified little cousin, Hikaku, complain/despair/cry-in-hysterics over being Izuna’s bodyguard.

 _It’ll make you into a formidable character_ , he remembers telling Hikaku. _A bit of stress is good for you_ , he says as light dies from Hikaku’s eyes.

Looking back, Madara is confident that it was a sound decision. Just as he’s confident that he won’t have to worry about his own funeral arrangements anymore. 

But he digresses. “Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing, just be kind to your cousin and don’t get into any trouble. Remember that you have to be in one piece when the Uzushio diplomats come next week.”

Izuna looks mildly curious. “You’re in a good mood today.”

“Hm?” Madara queries.

“You bid me to stay safe without threatening to cut me down. Some people would even mistake your tone as being _friendly_.” Izuna jumps down in front of him and frowns. “Are you feeling alright?”

Madara rolls his eyes. “You’re so dramatic, but don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m about to find the Senju and try some new techniques I’ve been working on. I bet that I can scorch his eyebrows off by the end of today.”

There was no question who ‘the Senju’ was. After all, there’s only one irate Senju that Madara finds enjoyment in hurling just about everything that he could get his hand on at.

And if the thought of Madara’s fire singing the pompous look off Tobirama’s face makes him a bit _too_ gleeful, well, he’s glad that he has the stoic Uchiha gene to beat the facial expressions out of him.

It also seems that said stoic Uchiha gene had missed his little brother. At his words, Izuna’s gait grows alert. He suddenly straightens his spine, and blocks Madara from going forward.

“You can’t do that!” cries Izuna. His arms wave in distress.

Madara squints at him, the lines underneath creasing his fac becoming more pronounced. There was a suspicious fire in Izuna’s eyes – a fire strangely reeking of determination. It makes Madara wary. “…why?”

“Because you two take years _,_ no, _centuries_ for a single fight,” exaggerates Izuna. “And by the time you finish all daylight is gone. He’s sparring with me today.”

“He didn’t mention that when I spoke with him this morning.” Madara flicks his mind back to their calm, _civil,_ definitely-a-discussion-and-not-a-fight encounter this morning and frowns. Paperwork was hurled at, his office desk was broken and a chair was definitely thrown somewhere during the conversation but Madara was sure that Izuna’s name wasn’t. “He might’ve forgotten.”

Izuna flushes. “Well, actually, he doesn’t know that _yet._ But he will. Soon. You spar with him all the time, it’s my turn now. I was on my way to asking him right now in fact.”

“Well you’re in the wrong part of the village.” Madara scans the tree around them. They’re still close to the Uchiha compound.  “When Senju finishes early, he spends the rest of his day working on his projects on the training ground.”

Not that he stalks the man or anything. He’s just seen Tobirama heading to the training grounds during one of his previous village patrols. Admittedly, he took a justifiable number of detours, might’ve sent his falcon on a discrete search and even subtly hinted to Hashirama that that he was looking for his brother.

Not stalking at all.

“Why don’t you come with me? I’m sure he can just fight the both of us,” offers Madara.

Izuna crosses his arms. “I don’t want him to fight both of us. I want him to fight with me, and _only_ me.”

“Well, that’s the idea. Us teaming together against one Senju seems excessive.”

“We’re not teaming together. I meant that I want to fight with him _alone._ ”

“Isn’t that what I said? You have a go, then I have a go.”

“No, brother,” Izuna whines. “I have a go, and you _go._ ”

His eyebrows are doing some amazing acrobatics with all this confusion. “So you want me to simply supervise you then leave?”

 _“Argh.”_ Izuna digs his fingers in his hair and tugs in frustration.

Madara’s not stupid. Izuna doesn’t want him there, but he doesn’t know _why_ Izuna doesn’t want him there. Izuna’s never had a problem with Madara watching him spar before. What does Izuna want to do with Tobirama alone that Izuna couldn’t do with Madara there?

And why won’t his brother look at his face? Izuna’s red eyes seems to bounce from one tree to another, looking at everything but Madara. His cheeks do look a tiny bit red. Could Izuna be feeling slightly feverish? The only other time Izuna acts this foolish is with that devil incarnate Tōka...

When the realisation hits him, Madara feels the urge to slam his face into the nearest tree.

Izuna’s crushing on Tobirama. Hard.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Madara moans. “Out of all the people in the damn village – Tobirama? _Really_?”

“You know how much I like scary, pretty, people,” Izuna sulks. “You shouldn’t be so surprised.”

“It doesn’t matter how pretty he is.” Ah, _crap,_ he didn’t mean to agree with the statement in front of his brother. Time for evasion. “He’s given you enough injuries to last you _two_ lifetimes! That’s more than enough to ward off the more forgiving Uchihas away from him. Even the most bloodthirsty Uchihas start scattering when that Senju looks in their direction.”

Also, pretty doesn’t do the kind of allure that Tobirama holds justice. It was too vapid of a word, too tame. If Madara had to describe it, he would say it was a piercing, feral, yet polished, kind of beauty.

Inwardly, Madara cringes. Exchanging one word for another to describe Tobirama’s beauty is as close to poetry as Madara will ever get.

Izuna snorts, as if the idea of running away from things that could potentially end one’s existence was as absurd as flying. “Cowards.” Kami forbids the day he grows a single cell of self-preservation in his body.

“You’re an idiot,” Madara states. “Then again, I suppose I’m forgetting the fact that I’m talking to my blithering buffoon of a brother, who has a tendency to act like a suicidal maniac instead of a normal, sane person.”

“Now who’s being dramatic,” Izuna muttered under his breath. “Besides, He’s tried to kill you too and now, you’re all buddy-buddy with him.”

Madara scoffs. “Tobirama has never come _close_ to grazing me.” Technically true since he only ever fought Hashirama in the war. “Have you forgotten how _easily_ he clubbed you with his sword in the last battle? He sent you _flying_ to the Land of Iron.”

Izuna sighs dreamily. “He broke three ribs that day…”

A migraine starts to pulse at Izuna’s ridiculously besotted expression. “Izuna, I swear…” Madara starts massaging the bridge of his nose. Tobirama is going beat his brother blue. Tobirama will _squash_ him like a _bug_ and Madara fears that Izuna will enjoy that a bit _too_ much. “You will put me in an early grave – I thought you were chasing after that hellcat anyway. You never seem to stop badgering about her.”

“You mean Tōka?” Izuna contemplates. “Well, yes. Of course I do. She is beautiful, scary, and crazily vicious. I would happily let her beat me into the earth all day but Tobirama’s so....”

The fact that nothing in that statement surprises Madara, should be worrying. “Ridiculously hard-headed? Stubborn? Rigid?”

“Intelligent. Thoughtful. _Fierce_. His killing intent was so volatile, it made even the smallest bone in my body shiver…” Izuna broke off with a sigh. “No one’s been able to do that in since I was seven.”

“Ah yes,” says Madara flatly, “the threat of bodily harm is so romantic.” And the awe in Izuna’s tone is bordering on indecent for areas outside one’s home.

“No reason I can’t chase both of them,” decides Izuna in a whimsical tone. “I’m a very loving person. I have a lot of love to give.”

Madara breathes out an exasperated breath. “ _Whatever._ Spend quality time with him some other day. I’ve spent the last two weeks tweaking this jutsu and I’m going to beat his ass with it before Hashirama can drown me in any more paperwork.”

“Please.” Izuna’s not above begging. “If it’s already been two weeks then can’t it wait another day?”

“No, Senju doesn’t have another free afternoon till next week.” Again, not stalking the man or anything. “If you don’t want to come with me, then I’ll just leave you.”

But Izuna’s not the heir of the Uchiha Clan for nothing. Izuna, when prompted, can be just as sharp as his brother – although admittedly there has to be some pretty _severe_ prompting in some cases – and finds Madara’s stubborn insistence…interesting.

 “You know…,” suspicion starting trickling through the words uttered, “…for someone who won’t even address Tobirama by his first name, you spend an awful lot of time with him.”

Madara doesn’t miss a beat. “Coincidence.”

“You do,” Izuna agrees with himself. “And you always look so alive when you’re bickering with him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you deliberately rile him up because you enjoy yelling at him.”

“Ridiculous.” Evade, evade, _evade._

“And lately, you’ve been taking an awful long time to polish your weapons before sparring with Tobirama – I mean, last night you took an hour just to polish your gunbai.”

“I always polish my weapons before I spar,” Madara lies flawlessly. “It keeps them in top shape.”

“ _Liar._ You never do it with Hokage-sama or me. You only do it with Tobirama because he grunted the other day that he ‘appreciated’ shiny swords.” Izuna’s voice imitates the lilt of Tobirama’s speech before pointing an accusatory finger. “You were trying to impress him weren’t you?”

Madara cannot, will not, let Izuna know how his much his words had affected him. Izuna can also never know the price of the new polish he picked up this morning.

“Now that I think about it, you’ve been pretty pedantic about stocking up different kinds of tea in your office. I even saw a box of genmaicha on your shelf. I thought genmaicha was too peasant-y for your refined taste buds but then again, Tobirama’s known as the resident tea fanatic isn’t he?”

At this point, Izuna was doing the verbal equivalent of throwing a number of projectiles in the dark and hoping it hits something. He hadn’t expected of his words to sink at his target and he definitely didn’t expect to be right.

At the hint of red on the tips of his brother’s ears, Izuna _gapes._

“Great Daimyo, you do…” Izuna’s voice drops into a whisper, dwelling in his glee. “You do have a crush on him…”

“Izuna – “

“ _The_ _great_ _Uchiha Madara has a crush on Senju Tobirama!”_

“Izuna. _Shut up._ ” It was mortifying to note that he was flushing. He prays the great Uchiha genes will turn him back to a respectable shade of white. “People might hear you!”

“ _Oh,”_ Izuna sings. “You’ve got it _bad_.  You’ve got it super bad. I wonder if this is a family thing?”

“ _It is most definitely not a family thing.”_ Madara is bellowing now, damn Izuna. “That’s it! I’m leaving and I retract my invitation. Find Tobirama another day, now _scram_.”

As if remembering the reason for all this conversation in the first place, Izuna mirrors Madara’s steps, obstructing his path.

“No.”

Madara glares, the most blistering glare Izuna’s ever seen, and threatens in a low voice that would do the Shinigami proud. “Little brother, if you do not want me to _amaterasu_ you out of existence, you will get out of my way.”

Izuna doesn’t back down. He soldiers forwards, head held high, until they’re shoulder to shoulder, and meets his brother with a gaze that stokes the fires of rivalry – a bone deep competitiveness that derived from simply being siblings.

 _Make me_ , challenges his gaze.

And so Madara does. With a speed that even lightning would envy, Madara body flickers behind Izuna, kicks his knees in and _bolts_ as if a pack of hounds were chasing after him.

He swallows a grin when he hears a curse behind him. Making sure the scrolls are secure in his arms, he charges enough chakra in his feet to spring himself into the air, lands on a sturdy tree branch. He doesn’t need to spare a glance to know that Izuna will be nipping at his heels like a madman soon. Reaching with his chakra through the trees, trying to sense the cool-blue chakra that belonged to Tobirama.

 _There!_ On training ground nine. Veering right, he dodges a handful of shuriken and sprints madly towards his target.

In front of him, the mass dense of trees start to clear. _Almost there._ Internally sticking it to Izuna, Madara prepares a considerable jump that’ll take him straight into the training grounds. 

Before he could charge forward, a dense weight crashes into him from behind, unexpectedly disrupting the momentum of his springs. He falters under Izuna’s tackle. His feet slip off the branch, and he watches his scrolls fly from his arms as gravity pulls his descend.

Madara and Izuna, the prodigious brothers of the Uchiha Clan, the pride of Uchiha Tajima, the pinnacle of fire-wielding excellence, tumbles through the trees in a flurry of limbs, and comes crashing into the training grounds with a resounding thud.

Breathing quickly to catch his breath, Madara decides to settle this disagreement like the mature older brother he is known to be - by trying to choke the life out of Izuna. He rolls over and pounces, attempting to wrap his arms around his brother’s neck so that, hopefully, he could squeeze the idiocy of out him.

“You are dead, Izuna!” hisses Madara. “ _Dead._ ”

Izuna tries to scamper away from him but trips under his own weight, a hair-width close to whimpering at the glint in Madara’s eyes.

“Madara-sama? Izuna-sama?”

The brothers freeze. They shift their gaze from the child whose mirthful voice interrupted their fight, to the stern man that stood beside him.

From the angle that Madara is looking up at Tobirama, the sun highlights his slim and chiselled jawline. Light plays on the soft bow of his upper lip, and traces his piercing, upturned eyes. Madara’s eyes travels to the tight mesh shirt that hugs every sculpted muscle, and he swallows hard, his mouth drying.

He wouldn’t say that his insides were getting tingly, but it was close.

Tobirama scans over them with a calculating gaze. Then he takes a moment to look at the scroll pathetically rolling towards them before shifting to the few rebellious leaves stranded amidst the dark hairs. He tilts his head a miniscule fraction – an innocently curious gesture that contrasts his stern features – and his lips twitched. “Quite a graceful entrance, wouldn’t you say so, Kagami-chan?”

To say that they were blushing would be too mild of a word to describe the shade of red Madara and Izuna are turning.  A shade redder than ripe tomatoes.

The child beside Tobirama, whom Madara recognises as Uchiha ‘curly hair’ Kagami, snickers behind his hand.

Izuna takes advantage of their blinding embarrassment – and Madara should have foreshadowed it since the word shame does not remotely register in his brother’s vocabulary – to shove Madara off of him and scurries to stand in front of Tobirama.

Faced in front of the object of his affection, Izuna takes a deep breath.

“Tobirama you’re amazing,” Izuna blunders. “I mean – your speed is amazing and your grace is amazing and your _everything_ is amazing. Will you spar with me?”

Izuna dodges a scroll aimed at his head, and smiles at Tobirama with eyes that threaten to twinkle the longer they stared at him. Madara feels double the embarrassment on Izuna’s behalf.

A crease forms between Tobirama’s eyebrows. Izuna strains for his reply like an eager puppy and Kagami watches intently, enthralled by the events folding in front of him.

Tobirama considers his words carefully. “I can honestly say, I’m pleasantly surprised and humbled by your offer…”

Izuna sends Madara a victorious grin while Madara’s face scrunches into a glower.

“…unfortunately, I’ll have to decline for now. I have already promised to train Kagami-chan.”

“Oh.” Izuna _wilt_ s, and a pout curls on his face. “That’s okay then.”

Kagami steps forward. “Apologies, Izuna-sama.” The kid doesn’t look apologetic at all. “Tobirama-sensei is training me for the chūnin exams.”

“Another day, perhaps?” Tobirama offers in compensation.

Izuna sniffles, but nods. Madara stands to gather the remains of his brother’s dignity.

The chūnin exams were a month away. If Tobirama was training Kagami for the chūnin exams, then he won’t have any afternoons free until the exams are done and dusted. That could take up to a week after the actual exam has commenced.

A part of Madara is envious of the child for being able to spend so much time with Tobirama while another part scolds himself for such a small, petty attitude. He should be glad that Kagami has found himself such a qualified teacher. In fact, he _is_ glad Kagami has found himself a man as qualified and upstanding as Tobirama. Kagami is a talented child and will become a great shinobi.

Madara expresses this simmering of emotions with the only way he knows how. He twists his features into a small scowl.

“Tobirama-sensei, didn’t you say you wanted to see the kittens before we trained?” Kagami’s cheerful voice chirps, a bright contrast to Izuna’s petulant sulking. “We should hurry back and try to catch them while they’re awake. They sleep so much. They’re like the Nara clan, but _cats_.”

Tobirama’s eyes shifts to the child and softens with fondness.

Madara is a smart man and an even smarter leader. He knows when to recognise and admit defeat, just as he knows that his offer of a challenging spar and a new jutsu is _nothing_ compared to imparting knowledge to the next generation and new born kittens. Tobirama’s got a blatant soft spot for children and mewling bundles of fur.

Madara scowls even harder.

“We’ll take our leave then. Izuna.” Tobirama nods to Izuna, then to Madara. “Uchiha.”

Kagami politely bids them goodbye as well before turning around and beckoning Tobirama towards his house.

Madara and Izuna watches the diminishing backs of Kagami and Tobirama as they walk away from the training ground. They watch Tobirama chuckle at Kagami’s exuberance and they watch Kagami _preen_ when Tobirama ruffles his hair.

With Tobirama’s hand still entangled in his mass of black hair, Kagami turns his head towards his highly esteemed clan leaders, and _smirks._

Izuna looks indignant. Madara goes beyond scowling and starts seething.

“Were we just outplayed by a twelve-year-old?” Izuna wonders with a bit of reluctant awe.

“ _Brat,”_ Madara utters, a promise of retribution ringing with his statement. Then all annoyance leaks out of him and pride takes its place. “He will serve the Uchiha well.”

Kagami walking away with Tobirama may have been a defeat, but it’s not a full defeat. Madara might have lost this fight but he is adamant that he’ll win the war.


End file.
